Jun '03 [Home]

Poetry

. . .

Masters


Feature:
Between Strands of the Hammock


Twelve
Or More of Less
Maureen Holm

(With a debt to A. Lowell, W. Stevens)

Jonquils and daffodils,
so similar in April grass,
identical in their surrender
pattern on the gardener's bed;

         It will descend like Winter,
         on a heart enamoured of the falling,
         to lie in drifts, imburden branches,
         strip a man's arms bare;

belled and hooded like myself,
can't tell the difference whether:
is it harder, is it sadder
just before you plant the next
parting kiss on us
or just after?

         sparkling and bleak,
         as if what's missing weren't
         the matter with me,
         but the nothing that's always there.